


Boyfriend

by DictionaryWrites



Category: James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Pokemon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:57:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some Pokémon 00Q for a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lebearpolarr](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=lebearpolarr).



Q is working in his office when the door opens up. It's a simple building in Slateport City; he's an engineer at heart, though much of his work involves computers these days, and he'd be lying to say he didn't utterly love it. IT makes the work far more _enjoyable_ , after all.

“Pika.” Pikachu says from her perch on his desk.

“Yes, I know.” Q replies, and he looks up from work, raising an eyebrow. Ah. _Bond_. “Good morning.”

“It's two o'clock, Q.” He furrows his brow and glances to the clock.

“Oh.” Q says succinctly. He stands, and Gardevoir glides behind him, Pikachu beside her. “I was working. I didn't realize. _Someone_ -” He spares a glance to Kecleon on the shelf to the side of the room. “Didn't tell me to stop.” Kecleon is asleep. Q ought have noticed.

“Of course. Blame the sleepy Pokémon.” Bond's Pokémon are at his belt, except for the Hariyama at his side. Q had been there the first time Bond had caught him, when it had been a timid Makuhita too curious about the trainers in its cave.

“Kecleon knows I'm work _obsessed_.” is Q's response, and he gestures for Bond to shut the door and come in. With that, he opens up the door into his home for Bond to follow him into the kitchen. Gardevoir begins to lay out ingredients from the cupboards, and they flow like magic to settle on the side.

Pasta, pineapple, tomatoes, lemons, garlic, some honey, some vegetarian meat substitute.

“Oh, are you cooking?” Q asks, raising an eyebrow as Bond follows him in. Gardevoir looks at him.

 _Sit down with your boyfriend._ Q _tuts_ in her direction, and a tittering sound comes from all his Pokémon, including Kecleon, who has sleepily made his way into the kitchen to settle at Gardevoir's- bottom. Not _feet_. But at her skirts, Q supposes.

“What did she say?” Bond asks, and Q laughs, ignoring the question.

“Come, sit down. She's cooking.” Bond slides into a chair across from Q, and then he lets out his other Pokémon with a significant glance in Q's direction: Mightyena immediately runs over to begin provoking Kecleon into play, and Mankey clambers up onto the table.

Arcanine settles beside Bond with its expression as stern as ever. Hariyama spares her a look before trying to mimic the brusque stance. Q does his best not to smile and to look suitably intimidated for the latter's self esteem.

He's such a _shy_ thing even still, after all: more so than Q would expect Bond to take patience with.

“It doesn't hurt them to be in the Pokéballs, you know.” Gardevoir lets out a trill Q knows to be amused from the other side of the room, and Q rolls his eyes.

“It wouldn't hurt you if I kept you locked in my bedroom all the time, but you wouldn't enjoy it.” Bond _grins_ at him. Q questions his own choice of words.

“I'm fairly certain I _would_ , at that.” Q presses his lips together, a slight pink coming to his cheeks. Pikachu jumps into his lap and it is automatic for him to stroke over her head, feeling the static that clings to his fingertips as he does so.

“You are incorrigible.”

“And yet you keep letting me come back.” Bond murmurs. His hand slides across the wood of the table.

“So I do.” Q will allow it; he puts his hand over Bond's own, interlinking their fingers. “Gardevoir says you're my boyfriend.”

“Aren't I?”

“Pik _a_.” Pikachu says emphatically.

“Very true.” Q agrees. Bond's brow furrows: he does not understand Pokémon as Q does. But then, he doesn't have a psychic Pokémon fostering a mental link, and nor does he have Q's empathy. If he did, he has no doubt Bond would be swiftly killed in the line of duty. “Will you stay the night?”

“Yes.” Bond says. “Just tonight.”

Q nods his head. He hopes Bond will _not_ be killed in the line of duty; it would be somewhat unfortunate after all. Q would simply _have_ to adopt his Pokémon, and his house is not fit to contain such mighty beasts.

“Are you thinking about me dying again?” Bond asks. Q's Pokémon _titter_ , and give him away. Bond laughs. “I won't, you know. I promise.”

“Don't you make such _ridiculous_ promises, you silly man.” Q says firmly. “I've got new things for you, waiting in the lab.” Bond's expression softens. He's quite excited, obviously.

“May we?”

 _After dinner_.

“Gardevoir says later.”

“Gardevoir always does. _Ow-_ ” Bond wrenches his head to the side and stares in Gardevoir's direction. She looks back at him innocently.

“She gave you an electric shock, didn't she?” Q asks, smirking.

“I hate your Pokémon.” Bond says.

“Pika!”

“So I'm told, it's quite mutual.” Q murmurs, and he pats Bond's hand. “Don't worry, though. I enjoy you enough for all of us.”

 


End file.
